


Avert

by chuusei_teki_na_koe



Series: Emotional Sounds on the Violin [2]
Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Angst and Feels, First Time, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:14:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22246915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chuusei_teki_na_koe/pseuds/chuusei_teki_na_koe
Summary: They were both worked up, the night of their Kickstarter success. And as far as Brett's concerned, it never happened.
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Series: Emotional Sounds on the Violin [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1580653
Comments: 14
Kudos: 88





	Avert

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure this is tooootally canonically consistent with the other fics in the series, but it's on the same note tonally, so I stuck it in. Close enough.

Brett woke up with a gasp, sloshing water out of the bathtub when he heard banging on the bathroom door.

“Are you okay, man?” his buddy, the one whose apartment they were staying at, asked. “Don't drown in there. Go back to bed.”

Brett rubbed his face with a pruned hand, then levered himself out of the lukewarm water. His mind still felt like old Styrofoam. “Yeah, okay,” he managed to say as he stepped out of the bath, and somehow just finding a towel was a task. He was really out of it.

He'd felt so wired the night before, when they'd finally finished up their Kickstarter campaign—what time of day was it now, even? His internal clock was fucked. Brett toweled himself off quickly and tugged on some random clothes he found in the bathroom that may or may not have been his own, then staggered over to the extra mattress on the floor in the living room that had been laid out for him and dropped down onto it.

The room was light, and he squinted at the window. He couldn't tell what time of day it was, but it was light out, anyway. Eddy was still curled up on the couch opposite the mattress, face into the couch, blanket thrown off onto the floor with his shirt hitched up to reveal half his back.

Lying on the floor mattress, Brett felt completely exhausted, and yet he couldn't get back to sleep. He found himself staring at Eddy's back, trying to piece together what had happened the previous night.

It was intense like a vivid dream, too intense to be reality. Maybe he had just dreamed it.

After a minute, Brett got up again and went to the kitchen, where his buddy was eating a bowl of cereal.

Leaning against the doorframe and realizing he didn't know where his glasses were, Brett asked, “Hey, did we actually finish the Kickstarter, or did I dream that?”

Crunching cereal. “No, that happened. Are you up, then? You want coffee?”

“Yeah, I'm awake. And please.”

Brett leaned there, still feeling dazed, as his friend started up the coffee pot. It was taking him way too long to put his thoughts in order. “Hey, last night, did I...”

“Hm?”

Brett couldn't finish. He was imagining hands on his face, his chest, his ass, wet lines tracing down his neck, warm words whispered into his ear. “What time did we get back?” he changed the topic instead.

“Sometime after two, I think?” A mug of coffee was pressed into his hands.

“Hnn.” Brett made a vague noise, then started slurping the coffee. He sat down at the kitchen island opposite his friend, drinking for a while, before he got some cereal, too.

At some point a while later, when Brett's mind was finally starting to wake up, he heard rustling in the living room and then a thump, and then Eddy was coming into the kitchen, his eyes barely open and his hair sticking up every which way.

When Brett looked over at him, Eddy froze at the entrance.

“Morning,” their friend said, and that seemed to unfreeze Eddy.

“Morning...”

After a long, awkward silence, their friend excused himself, saying he had to go to work, and Brett and Eddy were left sitting at the kitchen island with empty mugs and cereal bowls, staring at the counter.

“You got a...” Eddy cleared his throat and waved vaguely at his own neck, eyes avoiding Brett's. “Pretty bad violin hickey, there.”

Brett's hand smacked against his neck, though he couldn't see what he was touching.

“And another one here...” Eddy pointed down at his collar bone.

“Yeah, well, I mean, we were playing a lot of violin.”

“Uh-huh.”

“...”

“Looks like your violin's a...real beast,” Eddy said with a strained laugh.

“That's my bae.” Brett smiled a little, but it was just as forced, and they fell into silence again.

Leaning his elbows on the counter, Eddy looked down for a while, then finally up at Brett. Brett could tell he was trying to make eye contact, but Brett kept his eyes focused on the kitchen cabinet across from him.

“Hey, so—”

“I was so tired, I can hardly remember anything straight,” Brett cut him off. “I feel like I drank too much.”

Eddy stared at him a moment, then looked back down at the counter, then leaned back on his stool. “Uh-huh.”

“It's weird how when you're that tired, it really is like being drunk, bad judgment and all.”

Eddy's head snapped up then, and Brett made the mistake of meeting his gaze. Eddy was looking at him with a mix of hurt, apology, begging—

Brett jerked his head away. He didn't want to see it. He wasn't going to be the bad guy here. He wasn't going to let Eddy have his way.

“You called your girlfriend yet? She probably wants to know what's up.”

“I haven't, but—”

“I think it's more important you talk to her.” Brett slid off the stool then, walking out of the kitchen. He put everything he had into keeping that from sounding angry or jealous. This was just gentle advice, and he wasn't jealous. He wanted the both of them to be happy, and that was all. His own feelings weren't even relevant, and never had been.

At the doorway, Brett paused and turned back, pasting on a smile. “Have another coffee, man, you look dead. We got a lot of work to do, planning the tour and stuff. You slept half the day.”

Eddy's eyes flicked up at him, then down at the counter again, and he nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

x x x

The memories came back in bits and pieces, but eventually, Brett managed to assemble it into some kind of sense.

“ _Hey man, I want the couch.” Eddy flopped over onto the couch, tugging at Brett and half-dragging him onto the floor._

“ _What? No, I can't sleep on the floor.” Brett struggled, clambering back up onto the couch. He was too tired to be diplomatic about anything. He wanted the damn couch._

“ _Then we both get the couch,” Eddy said, smushing himself onto the couch side as he allowed Brett only the very edge, still practically shoving him off._

“ _Dude, no.” More struggle. The blanket wound up on the floor, Brett shoved Eddy's face, then threatened with a tickle that made Eddy flail away onto the floor, but Eddy just came back, throwing himself down on top of Brett and refusing to let go._

“ _If you don't wanna be on the floor, we'll just have to sleep together,” Eddy said, and he snuggled his face into Brett's chest and started to make stupid, obvious snoring sounds._

“ _You're too heavy...”_

“ _Are you calling me fat?” Eddy shot back in mock-offense._

_Brett shoved Eddy in the face again, but not all that hard. It was hard to pretend that he wanted Eddy to go. And he still didn't feel like he could sleep, anyway. He was too wired._

_It seemed Eddy was the same way, because he kept squirming and shifting, moving his hands from Brett's chest to hanging one over the edge of the couch, then raising it up to over Brett's head. Eddy was sort of slumped over him awkwardly, half-turned, his legs hanging over the edge of the couch._

“ _Aren't you uncomfortable?” Brett kept his eyes closed. It was dark anyway, and he couldn't see much._

“ _Are you?” Eddy's hand shifted, brushing his hair, and Brett gulped._

_Brett was very uncomfortable. But at this point, he couldn't bring himself to push Eddy away anymore._

_He kept thinking of what Eddy had said when they'd embraced earlier. That was all he could think about._

_The words had just spilled out of his mouth. Brett felt like just about anything could spill out, right now. He was so high on the feeling that the two of them could do anything together. Anything._

_The sound of his own breathing in the dark was deafeningly loud._

_Eddy's right hand creeped up his side oh-so-slowly, sliding just under the edge of his shirt to touch just the smallest sliver of skin at his hips with his fingertips._

_Did he think he was being sneaky like that? For a guy who was so smart, Eddy could be so dumb. But Brett thought it was cute._

_Then Eddy breathed out a long, shaky sigh against Brett's chest and withdrew his hand, rolling off the couch. “G'night—”_

_Brett didn't know what he was thinking. He probably wasn't thinking anything. He just grabbed Eddy's arm by the wrist and tugged him back, drawing him into the most ill-advised kiss of his life._

_Eddy was half on the floor and Brett was half-off the couch when their lips met, and a heartbeat later, Brett was on top of Eddy on the mattress, pinning his wrists at his sides and kissing him deep enough to swallow him._

_It was easier do this when Brett could hardly see his face. His breathing was close, though, a whimper crossing his lips when Brett's hands slid down to his hips and then into his loose-fitting pyjama pants to feel that he was already hard._

_It was more of a thrill than Brett had expected to know that Eddy wanted him like this. He'd wondered if maybe, he'd entertained possibilities, but feeling it was different. It was an overwhelming feeling that he couldn't put into words, so instead, he just grabbed Eddy's right hand, then his left, placing one against his own face and the other against his crotch._

_Eddy did everything Brett wanted, sliding a palm across Brett's cheek and combing through his hair, kneading his erection through his pants._

“ _Harder,” Brett broke their kiss to tell him, and Eddy grabbed his hair in a tight fist, tugging backward a little until Brett gasped. Eddy's other hand circled around to his ass, pulling him close, grinding them together._

_Brett looked down to just barely pick out the outline of Eddy's eyes on the dark, and seeing them looking back at him made him shiver. He wanted to keep looking into those eyes forever. He wasn't thinking of the times he'd fantasized about this in the past or what would happen in the future—his mind couldn't even grasp anything like that, right now._

_He'd never felt as connected to Eddy before, not like this. He felt like they were breathing together, like they were in each other's heads. He was having crazy thoughts. What a fantastic lie he'd been telling himself, all these years. It wasn't enough to be friends. He'd always wanted more._

“ _Make me—” Brett began, but couldn't finish. What did he even want to say? His brain was mush. Make me feel loved? Make me whole? Make me cum?_

_But Eddy got it, he just got it, rolling them over on the mattress so Brett was underneath, tugging down his shirt to bite into his neck, hard, sucking in a way that would certainly leave a mark. Good judgment Brett, Brett who was operating on more than four hours of sleep in as many days would have pushed him away at this point—he never would have let this happen in the first place—but now, he couldn't even think about resisting. He pulled Eddy's head closer, arching into his touch._

“ _You're mine,” Eddy mumbled wet against his neck, and then he went for another, sucking and nipping the skin of Brett's collarbone._

“ _Yeah,” Brett replied, sounding surprisingly breathy even to his own ears._

“ _You won't love anyone else?” Eddy's voice was too close to his ear, somewhere between a command and a plea._

“ _Never.” And that was a promise he could make so easily, even knowing Eddy wouldn't say the same. Brett had always known his feelings were stronger, that was just the way Eddy was—he wouldn't demand Eddy change._

“ _Mine,” Eddy repeated against Brett's neck, tangling his fingers in Brett's hair again, pulling tight enough to hurt, while his other went for Brett's dick._

“ _I'm yours,” Brett answered, and god he sounded pathetic, but with Eddy's body pressed against his and his hand pumping his cock, he couldn't say anything else. It was true. He would do anything, anything for Eddy, and this was all he wanted in return._

x x x

Brett didn't realize he was zoning out until he found himself just kneeling on the floor with one arm in his backpack of clothes and essentials, thinking about cumming in Eddy's hand, Eddy's lips against his neck, jaw, chin, cheek.

“Agh!” Brett slapped himself in the face, trying to snap himself out of it. He didn't have the time for this. And if you thought about it, he'd gone without any of that all this time, so what was so different now? Nothing.

He got his stuff packed, brushed his teeth, put on fresh clothes, attempted to mash his hair into a semblance of order. He put on a collared shirt and did it up all the way.

“You ready to go?” he asked Eddy once he had everything together. He had his duffel bag and one hand and violin case in the other.

Eddy was kneeling by the couch, zipping up his own bag. “Huh? Yeah. Yeah.” He nodded, so Brett started heading off toward the door.

“Let's get going, then.”

He knew Eddy was looking. Eddy's gaze was hot on the back of his neck, but Brett didn't look back.


End file.
